


Resist

by Xionarte



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Miscarriage, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-03
Updated: 2018-11-22
Packaged: 2019-07-06 04:07:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15878193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xionarte/pseuds/Xionarte
Summary: This is intended as a collection of finished short stories, of varying length.





	1. VI

**Author's Note:**

> The chapter titles are numbered in order of when they were first written. Any missing numbers are not yet finished.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Megatron dies, and it is not as he envisioned.

Swoop sat in a corner. He was hidden from sight by a shelf. He liked watching mecha go about their day.

If he were to go beside them, they would quiet. They did not openly treat him with contempt, nor make mean jokes when it was clear that he could hear them. He did hear them. He had sensitive audials, and they picked up a lot. He hated those jokes. He and his brothers were not stupid. Immature yes, some a bit slow, but not stupid. They could learn. They were not beasts!

He knew Wheeljack and Ratchet had teamed up on the other mecha. They had lectured the other mecha in the rec. room. After that, they dared not act openly nasty to the dinobots. But when they thought nobody would hear, they would talk. On the surface, things had gotten better. But deep below, mecha had begun to resent them.

Just last orn, Cliffjumper said that Slag had destroyed the door to his habsuite on purpose. Slag had gotten into a lot of trouble for that.

But Slag had just fallen over. He had tried to hold onto something, but panic had messed up the amount of force he put on it. The door crumpled, and Slag fell.

Slag had told him later, huffing and puffing, that he hadn’t even been asked why he did it. He had just been told to go to the brig.

And because they were trying to be good Autobots, he went.

On second thought, he was sick of mecha for today. He stood and walked out of the room, hurrying towards their shared habsuite. He needed his brothers.

Tomorrow, he would sit there again.


	2. IX

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An unnamed mech ponders upon how the energon he fuels with has changed.

He swirled his energon around in his cube.

It had been long ago that he had drunk something that tasted better than this.

There used to be uncountable varieties of fuel, according to what it was made of, what additives it contained, the method of preparation, the equipment it was made with, and the skill of the creator.

There were none, not anymore.

The complicated stuff went first. The equipment necessary was not easily moved, and so they were left behind, destroyed by raids and rusting away.

Then the additives became more and more uncommon, until only the medics had access to them.

Few mecha know how to create a tasty blend anymore. They died, because those chefs were not trained warriors, and their skills rarely lent well to survival.

Then came rationing. Energon reserves ran low, and mining had decreased after the begin of the war, both because a lot of lower-caste mecha joined Megatron, and because it was dangerous. Mines changed hands faster than anything else. Decepticon. Autobot. Decepticon. And so it goes again. Few will risk their lives mining for others.

The energon was cold. He used to like it warm.

He swirled it again. Drank. The cube hit the table with a dull sound.

The door shut behind him. His shift had started.


	3. XII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Starfire leaves Starscream behind.

“Starscream...”

The being in front of him stood silently, back turned towards him. There was no sign he was listening, but that had never stopped him from talking.

“I would have liked to see that day.”

A last glance backward. As he left, the image of the mech, standing tall and proud, yet seeming so defeated, did not leave his mind.


	4. XV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An unnamed mech loses his entire first clutch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: miscarriage, death, implied suicide.

A strong mind was necessary to survive the process of hibernation. Not all of their hatchlings would survive, he had known that. He had known, but it hurt still.

His first clutch, and the elders had told him there had been nothing he could do. It hadn’t been his fault. The first clutch often didn’t survive, the carrier’s frame not able to form the protoforms as perfect as they should be. So they told him, but the words didn’t reach him, not truly.

His dear sparks, extinguished one by one by the cold. When he had rebooted, the sight that greeted his optics was sparkbreaking. He had checked the pods, softly, reverently, and all of them had been dead. For a moment, he thought he noticed a sparkbeat in the last. It wasn't. He had been warned, but it did not lessen the ache of loss.

Not a single one would live. His dearest creations, whom he’d carried for vorns. He’d loved them, carried them, sung to them. He’d crooned lullabies he remembered from his sparklinghood, embraced them with his field. They didn’t make it, and he felt like he wouldn’t be able to either.


	5. XVIII

“B-Burner? Are- are you alright? You’re acting- strange.”

He took a step backward, flinching as the winged mech drew ever closer.

“You’re- you’re acting creepy, okay? S-stop it!”

He trembled as the Seeker’s hand tilted his chin upward

“H-hey, why don’t you l-let go of m-me…?”

“…”

There was a brush over his audials, bringing up deeply uncomfortable feelings. He didn’t want to be touched.

“P-please?”

“No.”


End file.
